Harry Potter And The Girl Who Turned Time
by Mia Heartnet
Summary: When you think you are dead after a very tragic accident with no probabilities of surviving, don't try going around it, you are. When you think you are reborn in a fantasy world with magic, werewolves, vampires, metamorphmagus and Death Eaters like in Harry Potter, and you are not me, you are probably crazy. But well, I never said I wasn't. SELF-INSERT, SI, NON-CANNON.
1. Prologue

**HI DARLINGS! I'M BACK! **

**And I brought a lovely new story with me :3**

**The updates of this story are going to be way tooooooo slow so please, please, PLEASE bear with me, to be honest I'm just going to update every now and then so... yeah... please be patient...**

**Rated M because of possible future lemons or/and gore, and because I'm paranoid! Rate might change later in the story (but I doubt it).**

**And NOW!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine _(unfortunately)_ I just own the plot and my beautiful OC's :3**

* * *

**Summary: **When you think you are dead after a very tragic accident with no probabilities of surviving, don't try going around it, you are. When you think you are reborn in a fantasy world with magic, werewolves, vampires, metamorphagus and Death Eaters like in the Harry Potter universe, and you are not me, you are probably crazy. But well, I never said I wasn't crazy. Maybe I should have taken the bus after all...

**Pairing: **None so far... I accept suggestions :3

**Warnings: **AU, OC's Non-Cannon, OOCness, meddling Dumbledore. More warnings will be added in the future.

* * *

"Blah..." talking

_'Blah...' _thinking

_"Blah..." _dreams/flashbacks

**"Blah..."** French

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**Published: 04-26-14**

**Updated: 12-28-14**

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**Prologue**

**_― Death And Rebirth ―_**

**_(Second Chances And Opportunities)_**

* * *

**Mia's PoV**

The story of my dead was a fairly quick one. It involved a boy, a car, rain, and of course, me, alongside with some unfortunate circumstances. It was merely seconds before my dead that I learned a very invaluable lesson, pity. Very unfortunate indeed.

I was never very religious, despite my parents and grandparents efforts to make me pray and thank god for being alive, yadda, yadda. I guess that it was because of their insistence of believing in God that I ended up not believing it him, it... whatever the hell I was supposed to refer to God. So of course, when I was unfortunate enough to think it would be a good idea to save a kid from dying and I ended up under the car... well, I seriously thought there would be nothing more there.

But nooooooo, apparently I had the luck of a ball and was kicked in my family jewels ―so to speak― and back into a life that I really didn't wanted to.

I wonder if I had angered some mayor deity in my last life... unless it was actually God, because if that was the case I was screwed, like, big time.

So when I ended in some kind of cage I was reasonably unhappy.

No, señor.

I was _not_ happy.

At first I thought, _'well, maybe I'm not dead after all'_ but when I started doing the math, and noticing how it didn't feel like my ass on a hard hospital bed ―because I fucking knew damn too well how those little shits felt, they were hard as rocks, not comfy at all― I realized that I had to be dead, there was no way around it. Plain and simple.

The first thing I noticed after I was pretty sure I was dead after all was that I felt like I was floating in nothingness. It was like that for a while and with time until I started to be able to feel the confines of my prison and although the barriers were supple and soft, they were unyielding, no matter how hard I pushed they never bugged. So when the day the barriers decided to push _me_ back, to say that I nearly had a hear attack would be an understatement. I would have shit myself if I had been able to.

There was desperation to have some contact and perhaps escape my prison too, I started to pound the walls with all my might but after what seemed an eternity I stopped when I realized the wall wouldn't move, at least not at my will but at someone else's. Not long after that, I succumbed to darkness as I was too exhausted to keep my eyes open. It wasn't like I could go anywhere...

When I regain consciousness, it felt less comfortable than the last time I was awake and I noticed how my 'home' felt considerably smaller, there just didn't seemed to be enough space for me to move around freely, or as freely as I could, the last few months(?) I noticed that my 'home' started to get smaller and smaller. I had already curved myself into a small ball as much as possible, but my cell seemed to have shrunk around myself while I was asleep. Fortunately do me, my senses were somewhat clearer and although the rhythmical thunder I had heard before was rather loud, I had gotten used to it and didn't even realize it was there anymore.

When I first thought, _'are those drums?' _when I heard constant thumps against my ears I immediately thought it had been my imagination. However, when I pressed my ear to the wall of my cell, I was certain that I could hear something else beyond the drums. It sounded muffled, like when people where taking two rooms away from your own and you desperately wanted to hear the conversation but couldn't because there were two fucking walls in the middle that made it difficult. It was then that the realization that it was the sound of _people_ taking, suddenly made me feel claustrophobic and panicky, because shit, it had been months since the last time I had contact with another human being! I once more began to pound on the walls of my cell trying to get the attention of those persons so they could take me out of this horrible, horrible place. It was difficult because I had barely enough space to move my arms around, let along get a good hit on it. I wanted to scream and shout, but nothing more than a strangled gurgle escaped my lips. I didn't really knew if they were my captors or not, but fuck it, I wanted out, and out I would have. I was a spoiled little thing when I was younger and if I didn't get what I wanted I always found a way to make it happen. AMELIA ARMSTRONG ALWAYS GOT WHAT SHE WANTED!

Suddenly, the cell around myself cramped, and everything was _moving_ and was that _liquid_ pouring over myself and where the hell had that come from and the drums were beating in a frenzied rhythm and I was sure that I was hearing screaming and what was that freaking _pulling_ feeling? AND FUCKING SHIT WOMAN! SHUT IT! YOU AREN'T BEING RIPPED IN HALF HERE! Gosh, I felt like my head was being forced to go through a little tube with a radius of 3 centimeters... IT HURT!

When I reemerged into some bloody _light_ for the first time in what must have been _years_, because it certainly felt like it, I could hardly breathe since something that resembled liquid mucus was clogging my mouth and sinuses. I was asphyxiating, _terrified_ and cold, so I gave into my instincts and let out a blood-curdling screech. Or at least that was what I had tried to do. What came out as a spluttering little sneeze and a high-pitched whine, which was quickly smothered with something warm and fluffy that nonetheless felt coarse against my now sensitive skin. Haven't you guys ever heard of Johnson Baby's?

My eyes, after spending what felt like _years_ in complete darkness were unaccustomed to all the harsh light so I had scrunched them up as tightly as I could, but once something had more or less covered the fluorescent lights that were piercing my irises, I opened them tentatively, trying to make out my whereabouts and the people who had been torturing me so cruelly.

I couldn't really make out things, it was blurry, and somehow colorless. The colors were there, just not... really, it was difficult to explain. But I did managed to make out made me scream again.

What I saw almost scared the crap out of me. I shit you not.

My mother and father, both of them looking younger than I remember and also bigger were looking down at me with smiles on their faces. I noticed that they had lost their Latin features, instead they looked more... American? European? I couldn't really pint point which one, but their caramel skin and dark hair and eyes had disappeared and were replaced by lighter colors. My father's looks didn't change that much, skin was a lighter caramel color and he had light brown hair and almond eyes. My mother in the other hand was the total opposite. Her long straight black hair was now replaced by curly short dark blonde hair and her dark brown eyes were now a light brown, almost almond like my father's, she also seemed to have gained a few inches and lost a few pounds like my father.

**"She looks so cute!" **My _mother,_ I supposed, squealed in what I could recognize as French, ―thank you so much for making me loose that bet, dear brother of mine, I have never been more happy than right now of learning French― and I winced at the volume of her voice. Obviously, no one had ever told her not to yell in the presence of new born babies, idiots.

**"Hush darling, let our daughter sleep."** My _father_ coaxed calmly and looked at me from the corner of his eyes, a soft smile painted on his face. It was _weird_, my father, my real father, had never seen me with such soft eyes. At lest not since my little sister died. It was like seeing a talking dog.

**"Can I see her father?"** Another voice interjected and I frowned confused, that voice sounded very familiar, but...nah, it was just my imagination.

**"Of course, son."** My _father_ said, and I felt myself being shifted from a pair of arms to another, this ones seemed warmer and... welcoming, so unlike my mother's... Wasn't that supposed to be the other way around? Wasn't a baby supposed to feel the safest when with their mothers? I tell you, WEIRD!

I peered shyly to the man's face and my eyes widened when I found my brother's face, but that wasn't what surprised me, no. What surprised me was the fact that I _knew_ my brother was four years older than me, yet the person in holding me in his arms was at least fifteen years old.

**"Look at her, she's beautiful."** My _brother_ smiled at me adoringly, an emotion I had never seen in his face. Okay, this was officially weird. I GIVE! You got me guys, this isn't funny anymore!

My brother and I had a horrible relation, since our little sister, Amanda died when she was five, me being eleven at the time, and him fifteen, he wasn't the same. None of us were. Our father buried himself in his work while our mother created a fake life for herself and pretended we didn't exist, my brother started focusing even more in school up to the point you have to literally force him to eat like a baby. I, the other hand, not having anyone to lean on, started immersing into the fantasy world, things like anime, cartoons, video games and books became my new reality. There were only a few selected people I actually cared about, people who I wasn't related at all. I could count them with a single hand.

I felt my body being held tighter but not enough to hurt me and suddenly something wet touched my cheek, it smelled salty.

He was crying.

I brought my tiny hand to his face and clumsily cleaned his tears with it after nearly poking his eye and nose, making him look at me in surprise to then start chuckling softly, but his laugh was all wrong, it wounded hollow, empty, like then Amy died.

**"Look at you, all small and fragile and yet, you are the one giving me comfort instead of the other way around."** He said with a chuckle. **"You are one strange baby, I will have to ask bis sis if I was like that too..."** My big brother mused looking at me for another second before tears brimmed his eyes and started falling once again. **"I'm so sorry, sis, I'm so sorry."** He started sobbing holding me close to his chest crouching slightly so our heads touched each others **"I'm so sorry you have to be born in this family, I'm so sorry."** He choked and I felt my own eyes watering. What had happened to him? This wasn't the brother I remembered, the brother I knew would never cry in front of other person and would never show _me_ affection.

I tried calling him, but the only thing I could manage was making a 'Gah!' sound that made him chuckle.

**"Really, you are such a weird baby, Mia." **Well, at least that's better than Amelia, right? How I hate that name... It can't get any worse that that, right?

* * *

Well, shit. Apparently, I was wrong. It did get worse. Fuck you, Lady Karma, fuck you. I thought we were friends!

Miaplacidus Vindemiatrix Capella Channelle Cœurnet Celaeno della Stella with some more titles added here and there, I think my older brother mentioned something about me being a Duchess or something like that. Sweet.

But seriously, Miaplacidus is the worst name you could give a child. I sounds like shit, literally. I had an awfully long name that often gave me migraines. Of course, my parents and siblings weren't that much better. I would actually recite them if I remembered them, but yeah, they are that difficult to remember. I only know for sure that we are named after stars and constellations, mostly. But now that I think about it, don't name your kids after starts, and if you do, don't give them more than one name... It gets tedious after a while.

Our family history was quite... interesting. We had French, German, Japanese, British, American, Mexican, Brazilian and Italian roots ―but mostly French, not that we looked anything like the others― and it was family tradition to name the kids after stars_._ And as a result, our family settled in France after constantly traveling the first two years of my life.

My childhood on the other hand was _eventful_, for lack of better words. The first few months of my new life were horrible. I could never ask for a worse punishment than that. Why you may ask? Well, being a baby is exactly what is sounds like. You can't eat by yourself, you can't go to the bathroom by yourself, you can't walk by yourself, etc. I could go on forever but that is not the point. As I technically _knew_ how to talk and walk etc, etc, it was very frustrating when I had to everything all over again, I had to admit it wasn't so difficult because I had learned French when I was in high school along with Japanese, and I had the mentality of a seventeen year old, eighteen it you counted the year I had already lived in this world before I had decided I could learn to walk without creating an scandal.

When I was two, I discover an ability that made me piss my pants, my brother and older sister by nineteen years ―Nash and Amy, respectively― who ironically shared the names of my first set of siblings, had a hard time trying to convince our mother that I didn't need to go back to diapers, bless their souls. It was a perfectly normal day for me, and I was playing with my brother after he came back form school, that day he came earlier than usual and didn't have any homework, and our parents were out so we have the whole evening for us. Amy had been taking care of me, her husband had work to do and she offered to take care of me since our mother was nearly whining about wanting to go shopping. We were playing to make animal sounds _―yes, I was doing that, don't judge―_ when Nash's eyes suddenly widened like round plates and Amy's face lost color. I was confused by this and turned my head to the side where a mirror was, and I literally pissed myself when I saw my reflection.

I had a pig snout.

A. PIG. SNOUT.

Did anyone else see what was wrong here?

I was too young to have Schizophrenia.

I immediately started crying and both Nash and Amy was quick to try and calm me down, when he finally did, the pig snout had disappeared and I was back to normal.

Mostly.

My wavy platinum blonde, nearly white, hair that reminded me so much of the actor from my previous life Tom Felton, had disappeared and was now replaced with a wavy light brown hair. My usually light grey eyes with threads of green, blue and almond around the iris had turned a plain and dull grey color and my porcelain colored skin and my features that made me look like my father was now a sickly pale skin making me look like our mother.

Ugh, I shivered at the mere thought.

When I was three I also learned why my brother was so upset I was born into the family. Apparently, both our parents came from old money and they wanted to have male heirs. My sister was lucky of falling in love with her fiancee, now husband, and since I was a female, they would probably try to marry me off to some rich guy. Something my siblings didn't want, neither for me nor for him. Our parents had arranged a marriage between him and another girl two years younger than him when she was born, and my brother only learned about it when our mother announced she was pregnant with me. Not even Amy knew.

Three months after the pig incident, the day of his eighteen birthday, he packed his bags and left our house.

Not even once did he turned round. Not even when I called after him crying my eyes out, begging him to stop.

After he left, things starting to go bad for me. Before he left, our parents used to praise me a lot and call me a genius. I didn't loved the attention but if was better than nothing, when I was a little baby our mother suddenly lost interest in me and my father was usually out, not to mention that Amy was most of the time in her own home. My brother was the one to raise me. Anyway, our mother started neglecting me while our father tried to bury himself in his work, which led to fights between them, and ultimately, to their divorce.

Things went from bad to worse after that, to my mother, I was a constant remanding of her 'mistakes' as she likes to put it, and not long after she and my dad separated and I was left in her custody since my dad was often away from home. She started insulting me and treating me like a slave, often hitting me when I didn't do my chores like I was supposed to. Without Nash or Amy here, as she started to get busy with work and her own growing family, there was no one there to protect me.

When I was four, I started noticing how every time I got extremely angry with my mother weird things would happen around me. Things usually turned to ice or would catch fire, but if not, things would move or break and that often got me in even more trouble.

When I was five I discover that I maybe after all I wasn't crazy. Nor was I accidentally drugging myself. It was just after I fought with my mother and I was looking at my reflection in the mirror when I suddenly wished we wouldn't look so much alike. It was then when it happened. My wavy light brown hair that reached the small of my back suddenly turned a platinum blonde color with white streaks and my usually dull grey eyes turned a lighter shade and the iris of my eyes seemed to have acquire threads of green, blue and almond around them. My usually sickly pale skin was now a milky white color and my features changed to make me look different.

Just like I used to look before the pig snout incident.

My mother had a field trip when she realized I didn't look like her anymore and before I could do anything at all, she dropped me off at the farthest orphanage from there and left me there to rot with only the clothes I had on and a pocket watch that used to belong to Nash, the only thing I had left from him.

Wool's Orphanage. That was where she left me.

It had to be a sick joke or something. Wool's Orphanage? Like the orphanage Tom Riddle grew up with.

Someone up there is seriously messing with me.

She must have done it on purpose because the orphanage looked like a prison rather than an orphanage and they treated you worse.

There I met a very weird boy who since the first time he saw me, he wouldn't leave me alone.

His name was Regulus Nigellus Prince.

When I first heard his name I had started laughing like crazy, but he just looked at me with unimpressed eyes and a raised eyebrow waiting patiently for me to stop. When I finally did he raised him hand and slapped me around the face before talking my hand and dragging me to his room. I had allowed him to drag me around, not knowing what else to do, and obviously still dumbfounded. When we arrived to his room he pushed me gently inside and then shut the door behind him making sure to lock the door.

I was ready to start screaming rape.

Regulus started babbling about how he knew he wasn't the only one and that he knew someone like him would cross him path one way or another. Then he proceeded to hug the daylights out of me and after a very unwanted hugging session, he called me a witch.

A freaking witch.

Now it was my turn to slap him.

What the hell was wrong with this kid! you don't go around insulting girls and calling them witches!

Now, I must admit, this made me feel like Lily Potter, still Evan at the time, when Severus Snape ―or Sev, like she called him― when he tells her she's a witch after Petunia left running and nearly screaming bloody murder.

But yeah, you get the point.

Anyway, after that he started explaining all about magic and pureblood families and muggle-born and yadda, yadda. At first I thought he had too much sugar and he would drop it after a while, but with the pass of the months he kept insisting and I finally exploded telling him nothing about the Harry Potter world existed.

Imagine my surprise when he told me that he knew no Harry Potter, but he knew there was a Potter family that was a pureblood and then proceeded to interrogate me about my relation to them.

It was then when it hit me like a bullet in the head.

When I had been 'reborn', I was born in the Harry Potter world instead of mine.

It was creepy and exiting at the same time.

Fuck, someone up there really hated me...

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**PUFFFF! That was awfully long...**

**Sooooo... you love it? hate it?**

**I love you guys don't forget to review! XD**

**And sorry for the mistakes.**

**[*] No, señor: No, sir. (Spanish)**

_***Quick note: I actually **_**don't**_** hate the name Amelia, and if you were wondering, no, that's not my real name (though I wish Mia was...)**_

**_Bye bye!_**

**Mia Heartnet out~**


	2. The Girl-Who-Wouldn't-Stay-Dead

**HI DARLINGS! I'M BACK!**

**WARNING!**

**WARNING!**

**WARNING!**

**So yeah, I actually practically re-wrote this whole chapter and erased the third one (you might actually want to go over the prologue too, I changed some few things too). The third one will be re-posted most probably tomorrow alongside with the fourth one.**

**So please forgive me if it's not there by then.**

**The updates of this story are going to be way tooooooo slow so please, please, PLEASE bear with me, to be honest I'm just going to update every now and then so... yeah... please be patient...**

**Rated M because of possible future lemons or/and gore, and because I'm paranoid! Rate might change later in the story (but I doubt it).**

**And NOW!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine _(unfortunately)_ I just own the plot and my beautiful OC's :3**

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**Summary: **When you think you are dead after a very tragic accident with no probabilities of surviving, don't try going around it, you are. When you think you are reborn in a fantasy world with magic, werewolves, vampires, metamorphagus and Death Eaters like in the Harry Potter universe, and you are not me, you are probably crazy. But well, I never said I wasn't crazy. Maybe I should have taken the bus after all...

**Pairing: **None so far... I accept suggestions :3

**Warnings: **AU, OC's Non-Cannon, OOCness, meddling Dumbledore. More warnings will be added in the future.

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"Blah..." talking

_'Blah...' _thinking

_"Blah..." _dreams/flashbacks

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**Published: 05-19-14**

**Update: 12-28-14**

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**The Girl-Who-Apparently-Wouldn't-Stay-Dead**

**_― Learning About The World And Magic ―_**

**_(Oh, yeah? Well, Fuck You Too!)_**

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_***Last Time***_

I was ready to start screaming rape.

Regulus started babbling about how he knew he wasn't the only one and that he knew someone like him would cross him path one way or another. Then he proceeded to hug the daylights out of me and after a very unwanted hugging session, he called me a witch.

A freaking witch.

Now it was my turn to slap him.

What the hell was wrong with this kid! you don't go around insulting girls and calling them witches!

Now, I must admit, this made me feel like Lily Potter, still Evan at the time, when Severus Snape ―or Sev, like she called him― when he tells her she's a witch after Petunia left running and nearly screaming bloody murder.

But yeah, you get the point.

Anyway, after that he started explaining all about magic and pureblood families and muggle-born and yadda, yadda. At first I thought he had too much sugar and he would drop it after a while, but with the pass of the months he kept insisting and I finally exploded telling him nothing about the Harry Potter world existed.

Imagine my surprise when he told me that he knew no Harry Potter, but he knew there was a Potter family that was a pureblood and then proceeded to interrogate me about my relation to them.

It was then when it hit me like a bullet in the head.

When I had been 'reborn', I was born in the Harry Potter world instead of mine.

It was creepy and exiting at the same time.

Fuck, someone up there really hated me...

* * *

**Mia's PoV**

The next few months of my life were the most... _weird_, to say at the least.

I had to do a lot of thinking.

Like... a lot of thinking.

First I started going over everything that had happened since I had been 'reborn' ―which, unfortunately, included realizing I had came out of my mother's _VAGINA_ and could actually remember it with extreme detail, and was very much traumatic― trying to look for any clue that helped me see if there was anything that gave away the fact I had actually been reborn in a frictional world. I could only remember those little incidents I could only describe as "accidental magic."

Now that really thought about it, Schizophrenia at the age of five didn't sound terribly bad.

For the first time since I was 'reborn' I started to think, actually think, about my purpose in life. During my life as Amelia Chanelle Armstrong ―I found it really ironic I was still named "Mia" Chanelle― I had been a hardcore fan-girl.

A _REALLY_ hardcore fan-girl.

I was the girl you came to if you have questions about certain fandom and I could repeat the dialogues exactly as they had been in either a movie, TV series, or even a book, be it a manga or a comic. I had an incredible memory for anything that could catch my attention and interest.

That couldn't be said about school. But meh... bite me.

Anyway, when I realized I had been 'reborn' in THE Harry Potter universe, it was like been dropped in a tank full of hungry sharks after being bathed in raw, bloodied meat.

_It was absolutely terrifying._

Why? Because it doesn't happen! Is not natural!

_Is not real!_

But it was, at the mere thought was terrifying.

It was then that I realized that I didn't even _know_ what year I was. _What_ year I had been born. _Which_ year I would be going to Hogwarts. _IF_ I was actually going to Hogwarts. I could receive _Beauxbatons_' letter for all I knew. I _was_ French, after all, and lived in France for five years of my life. I had been _born_ in France.

And the war!

Had Grindelwald been defeated already? I could guess, from what I saw of society's development, that the WWII was over already or at it's end. I wasn't very informed about the world outside home, I was never very interested, and my... _family_ never really bothered to inform me. I _was_ barely out of toddler-hood.

So yeah, I was was literally a sitting duck.

_Lovely, isn't it?_

Thank _**Pringles[*]**_, I wasn't really a lost cause.

Reggie and I ―I could remember Sirius Black referring to his younger brother as 'Reggie' somewhere in the books, or maybe it was on one of the many fanfictions I read, I wasn't sure anymore― became best friends despite him being seven years, almost eight older than me. He taught me everything he knew and more, he was truly intelligent. He was the made me realize that I was a metamorphagus much to my delight ―because which crazy fan didn't wish for the ability to change their appearance at will?― and he insisted I was a seer when I started 'foreseeing' things, which I obviously denied ―the idea of being able to see the future was tempting, but not overly so, it was more dangerous than not. There was no way I was a seer, I was just more experienced in life, right? I had a six sense, that must had been it.

That same year when September arrived, he left for his third year at Drumstrang and I was left in Wool's Orphanage alone, and at the mercy of the bigger and crueler kids. They immediately started bugging me the moment my protector left my side, and before I knew it, I had become their new 'play thing'. When I was Amelia I never stood for bullying. I hated it. Especially because my little sister had been bullied by her classmates and even her so called _friends_ when the chemo cause her hair to started falling.

So I decided to start taking martial arts at the community center near the orphanage where a Japanese guy taught for free. I was very hard to learn Judo[**], but as Amelia I had learnt Aikido[***] and that actually helped me a little. When Reggie came back during winter break, he was very happy to know I didn't let the older kids have their way with me, and even though I wasn't neither strong, nor experienced enough to fight them off, it was a start. And as a reward, he promised me that during summer he would teach me everything they taught him at school.

It was hell.

Whoever told you that learning how to perform magic _without a want_ was easy, was a liar.

A FILTHY LIAR!

I was like learning how to grow a third arm from your ass. A third-fucking-eye in your tongue.

It was weird.

It was alien.

But it wasn't _impossible_.

That was what angered me the most. Because I _couldn't_. It wasn't _easy_.

I tried not to beat myself over the fact that I had difficulties learning a skill ninety nine percent of the magical world didn't learn because it was an incredibly skill to learn. I tried to feel pride because I was actually _learning_ it. Little by little. But I was.

I guess it was because, as Amelia, I read hundreds of self-insert fictions where the main character was able to pick right away whatever they wanted and jumped into the next big thing in order the save whoever they wanted to save, or prevent certain event. I saw that happen a lot. Especially with Naruto and Death Note, two of the many fandoms I was addicted- no, obsessed with.

What was with them and trying to save Jiraiya or L?

In the end, I had to force myself to look at the situation from a different angle. From what I could understand, little ―magical― kids weren't strong enough to harness their magic to something until they were eleven, which was the age their magic settled down, and the reason why they got wands. The wands served as a conductor for their magic until they were seventeen, when they had their magical inheritance, the age when they could started using wandless and wordless magic, the age when they could actually learn to use it without difficulties like the ones I was currently having.

So what to do about it?

I guess, if I looked around it, magical children didn't really _need_ wands. They were just a tool that helped them. Like the floater a child uses when he or she is learning to swim, with practice they are able to leave it, but they can still use it if they want to.

The same was with the wands.

Wands were like the floaters. But wizards and witches don't leave them because they feel comfortable with the 'floaters'.

Not because they _need_ them.

Also, I was taking in consideration that I was spiritually ―mentally not so much― a twenty two year old woman, and magical cores were ties to the wizard/witch's soul. So technically, it was like a twenty two year old learning how to use magic. My magical core was mature enough to learn how to perform wandless magic.

The problem was that I didn't know how to perform magic at all.

It actually took me months to draw this conclusion, but when I did it was like a a big boulder was lifted from my shoulders and I could breath normally once again.

I was refreshing.

So I continued to practice my wandless magic with the old books Reggie lend me while he was at school, and when he was back during the breaks, we would go over what I learned during his absence ―which wasn't really much― as well as how to be a proper pureblood. I was fortunate enough that Reggie didn't like all that 'I-am-mightier-than-thou' bullshit that I knew most of the purebloods believed in, but decided I should learn it just as a precaution.

During his third year at Drumstrang I started having weird dreams and I came to the conclusion that maybe Reggie was right and I was after all a seer ―which frightened me more than I would have liked to admit― when I dreamed about a woman's and her husband's death. I wasn't really sure what to do and if I should tell Reggie in my next letter or not and in the end, I decided to keep quiet and watch from the sidelines. I eventually told Reggie about it, but never breathed word about my suspicious. The woman looked a lot like Reggie, not enough to be her mother, but enough to be related, and the fact that she and her husband looked remarkably like the books described Sirius' parents was enough to set the alarm bells in my head.

One year later, the summer of his fourth year, Reggie came back and told me he had discovered his parents were actually Regulus Arcturus Black and Emmaleen Prince, which apparently was, Severus Snape's aunt from an affair his grandfather from his mother side had when Snape's mother was a teenager. He also learned that his father ―Regulus― had no idea that Reggie existed until a few days before his 'mysterious' death. Reggie mentioned that his father didn't know about him because he had been born when he was eleven years old thanks to a potion Walburga Black gave his mother who was in her last year in Beauxbatons in an attempt to preserve the Black line since her older son, Sirius, would be disowned as soon as he turned seventeen and a seer had told the Black matriarch her younger son would die young and without a heir and her older, while dying not so young, wouldn't have a heir of his own either.

It was like that until a year later, when Reggie turned fifteen, that was the age we were supposed to leave the orphanage to 'make ourselves a life', as Mrs. Hale liked to put it, and he left the day of his birthday promising to return for me after he claimed his title as current Lord Black. Two years later he came back an adopted me taking me away from all that and officially making me a Black and Prince by name.

Miaplacidus Vindemiatrix Capella Channelle Cœurnet Celaeno della Stella Prince-Black, with my other titles obviously because I was pretty sure my mother never really bothered to disown me ―not that she had the authority, nor the power to do so, but still― became my new name and I could only mourn in silence as I watched my name growing larger and larger, in no time I would need a whole sheet of paper to only write my name.

FUCK. YOU. Whoever is up there shitting with me.

After Reggie adopted me into the Black family, he packed our bags and took me to 12 Grimmauld Place where we settled down. At first I had been reluctant because of certain house-elf I was sure would look down on me just because I was a muggleborn witch, but surprisingly, Kreacher was very kind to me. which obviously baffled me. I was expecting shrieks and hits from him.

It took me a few months to gather enough courage to ask him why he didn't treated me bad nor called me a 'filthy mudblood that dirtied her mistress house'. Imagine my surprise when he told me I came from an apparently lost line of purebloods that had long ago became muggles because of the inbreeding.

Which, of course, created a new whole set of questions.

Well, at lest the house-elf liked me, right?

* * *

**Sooooo... you love it? hate it?**

**I love you guys don't forget to review! XD.**

**And sorry for the mistakes.**

**「＊」JUST A VERY QUICK NOTE! While Mia's character is somehow based on my personality (about a 30% or so), I'm not really talking about myself. Think of Mia as a very random character. And OC if you will. [I'm not even blonde...]**

**[*] Yes, Pringles like the chips. I have a weird sense of humor.**

**[**] Judo (柔道 _jūdō_, meaning "gentle way") is a modern martial art, combat and Olympic sport created in Japan in 1882 by Jigoro Kano (嘉納治五郎). Its most prominent feature is its competitive element, where the objective is to either throw or takedown an opponent to the ground, immobilize or otherwise subdue an opponent with a pin, or force an opponent to submit with a joint lock or achoke. Strikes and thrusts by hands and feet as well as weapons defenses are a part of judo, but only in pre-arranged forms (kata, 形) and are not allowed in judo competition or free practice (randori, 乱取り). A judo practitioner is called a _judoka_.**

**The philosophy and subsequent pedagogy developed for judo became the model for other modern Japanese martial arts that developed from _koryū_ (古流, traditional schools).**

**[***] ****Aikido** **(Japanese: 合気道 Hepburn: _Aikidō_) [a. .doː] is a Japanese martial art developed by Morihei Ueshiba as a synthesis of his martial studies, philosophy, and religious beliefs. Aikido is often translated as "the Way of unifying (with) life energy" or as "the Way of harmonious spirit." Ueshiba's goal was to create an art that practitioners could use to defend themselves while also protecting their attacker from injury.**

**Aikido is performed by blending with the motion of the attacker and redirecting the force of the attack rather than opposing it head-on. This requires very little physical strength, as the _aikidōka_ (aikido practitioner) "leads" the attacker's momentum using entering and turning movements. The techniques are completed with various throws or joint locks.**

**Aikido derives mainly from the martial art of Daitō-ryū Aiki-jūjutsu, but began to diverge from it in the late 1920s, partly due to Ueshiba's involvement with the Ōmoto-kyō religion. Ueshiba's early students' documents bear the term _aiki-jūjutsu_.**

**_Bye bye!_**

**Mia Heartnet out~**


	3. STORIES BEING STOLEN

Dear everyone,

For all of you who were waiting for another update of this story, it is my deepest regret to tell you that it is not, and until further notice, I will not be posting any more chapters.

_Why? _

The reason for this note is because it has come to my attention that there are several fake websites that are mirrors of this one, and literally, ALL FANFICS from FFnet are being stolen.

All stories, profiles, absolutely everything has been stolen and copied onto the following websites (just get rid of the spaces):

* thebuystock . org

* talkfictions . com

* fictionavenue . org

* thanfiction . org

* hmofiction . org

They are making profit out of our stories with advertisements. The are taking away what we made and saying it's theirs, and that despicable. This is called spamdexing, please report them. Theft of this magnitude, literally millions of stories, should not go unpunished.

My fellow writers, beta readers, fans, and everyone who owns a FFnet account, please listen to my plea:

**DO NOT TRY TO LOG INTO ANY SITE THAT LOOKS LIKE FFNET BUT IT'S NOT, WE DON'T KNOW IF THEY COULD ALSO STEAL OUR EMAILS AND PASSWORDS! **

...

**HOW TO REPORT **

1- Go here:_ google(. com) /webmasters /tools/spamreportform?hl=en_ (without spaces and parenthesis)

2- Put in the name of the website (one report each)

3- Write in additional details: This is a spamdexing mirror site to fan fiction . net (no spaces) and has stolen my profiles and intellectual property.

4- Click "I am not a robot" and then "Report webspam"

5- Report more by clicking the link on: Go back to_ google(. com) /webmasters /tools/spamreportform?hl=en_ (without spaces and parenthesis)

Writers and fanfic readers should report these websites that profit off our hard work. Stop plagiarism and art theft!  
Boost! I looked into this website, and my stories are there. Let's get these bastards. Check your work. I'm very sorry for disappointing you all, but hopefully all of this will be over soon and we can all go back to write and read fanfics without fearing works being stolen.

_**Mia Heartnet.**_


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